Djinn of the Lake
by kissfromaliss
Summary: Dean doesn't exist anymore, no matter what Sam wants to believe. He still hears him, feels him, even thinks he sees him, but then the memories fade. Suddenly, the hunters are turning against each other and Sam is caught in the middle. He doesn't think he can handle this one by himself, but maybe he won't have to. (Contains M/M)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note::**  
Hi there! This is my first ever Supernatural fanfiction. Please note that this story contains spoilers from Season 1 - Season 6,  
and first takes place at the beginning of Season 6.

*ahem*

I've come back to this story, but I need everyone to know this now before they continue to read on!

There is **NO WINCEST** in this story _any more_.

Yes - there will be some M/M pairing, but it will be Sam and my own character.  
I'm writing this story to put my own experiences inside of my favorite fandom.  
So anyway, please enjoy, and carry on!

 **Summary::**  
Sam loses Dean.  
Dean is there, in everything he sees. His voice still speaks in his mind, sometime Sam swears he sees  
Dean sitting at the bar, hitting on pretty girls and chugging beers.

Two years after Sam loses his brother, he begins to think it's time to give up and move on.  
And just as his life seems to become normal, it falls apart again.

And when Sam finally forgets Dean, a familiar face shows up at his door.

 **Disclaimer::**  
I do not own any characters from the world of Supernatural even though I wish I did.

* * *

 _"And I know,  
_ _The scariest part is letting go,_ _"_

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"It's _really_ cold in here."

"Here," Dean got up from the creaky motel bed and grabbed a sweater from Dad's suitcase. "Put this on."

"But that's…"

Dean rolled his eyes. "So what? Dad ain't here and there's no heater in this shit hole."

"Dean, grown up word!" Sam yanked the sweater from Deans' arms and pulled it over his own head. The older brother crawled back in to his own bed and shut off the lamp.

"Dean..."

"What now, Sam?" Dean said.

"Can I," Sam shuffled around. "Can I come to your bed?"

Dean was silent for a moment. "Fine."

A smile spread across Sam's face. He jumped excitedly into the bed next to his brother.

"Just shut up now, okay?"

"Okay Dean."

"And go to sleep,"

"Okay Dean."

"And no snoring! I'll kick you out."

Sam rolled onto his side. "Dean?"

"What?"

"Thanks,"

"For what?"

"For being with me when Dad is gone."

Dean didn't reply, but Sam could tell his brother was smiling.

 _"Sam?"_

 _"Sam..."_

 _"SAMMY!"_

"Sam," Castiel's voice echoed in Sam's mind. He could just about hear other voices coming closer, but couldn't distinguish any words they were saying. Sam faded in and out of consciousness for a few more moments before becoming fully alert, aware of many people surrounding him in a very bright room.

Hospital. He was in a hospital. He could hear nurses running around him, doing things with beeping machines and shoving needles into his arm.

"Dean-" Sam muttered. His vision went blurry again.

"Stop talking," Castiel said. "Go back to sleep."

So he did.

A day later, Sam woke up feeling like he'd been hit by a truck. It was easier to see the room. Yep, definitely still in a hospital.

Dean was no where to be seen, and everything seemed calm and quiet. He glanced at the needles still stuck in his arm; he could feel them pulsating, along with bandages squeezing tightly around his right leg.

"What..." Sam sat up, but quickly decided that was a bad idea when he saw doubles. Before he could fully collect himself, Cas appeared from thin air at the side of his bed.

"Sam, I'm glad you're alive."

"Yeah," Sam said, still wondering what had even happened to bring him here. "How's Dean?"

"Who?" Castiel's brows furrowed in confusion. "You must be suffering from a concussion."

The angel gently touched his fingers on Sam's head, and a feeling of warmth and peace flooded his body. He was completely healed.

"Castiel-"

"Not now," Castiel turned and picked up a pile of clothing, then tossed them onto Sam's lap. "Change into these and let's go."

"Wait-"

Too late. The angel disappeared with a _woosh_ and left Sam alone again.

He removed the needles and sensors, ignoring the beeping coming from the monitors, and quickly changed into his completely battered clothing. His next job was to find Dean.

It was dark outside his room, and there were no nurses in the halls. Sam figured it must have been night shift, the girl at the counter didn't even recognize him as a now escaped patient. He quickly read his name on his wristband. It read 'John Oates'. He checked his pockets, and found a matching ID along with a health care card.

"Hi, I'm looking for the guy who possibly came in here with John Oates?"

Sam noticed an older nurse appear around the corner, headed directly to his room, probably checking on why his heart had suddenly stopped beating.

"Sir, visiting hours are-"

Sam's hands slapped down on the counter. He bit his tongue form crying out. "It's my brother. I need to know if he's even alive."

She hesitated for a moment before typing something on the keyboard. Her eyes nervously went to the phone a couple times before she looked up at Sam. "Oates came in alone, he was brought in by a family friend. Do you have clearance to be a visitor here?"

"Thanks," Sam said anxiously, and headed for the elevators before the nurse could call security or ask any more questions. If Dean wasn't here, Sam thought, then he must be waiting nearby.

Sam fled out the back doors of the hospital and made his escape into the guest parking lot, towards a gas station that he could see across the street. He had to find a phone.

His eyes glanced back and forth between every car there, trying to see if he could spot Dean's car, not that he was expecting too. That's when he nearly walked into Castiel, who appeared out of nowhere again.

"Castiel-"

"We don't have much time. Your car is at Bobby's now, and we have to head back to the lake."

"Where's Dean?"

Castiel gave him a puzzled look.

"You know, about this tall, green eyes, listens to classic rock..."

Castiel didn't react.

"I don't remember what happened, I know we were hunting something, I can't remember what," Sam said, "And then... The lake, Dean got pulled under and I tried to save him, what happened to him?"

The angel remained silent with his eyes lowered to the ground. Grief overwhelmed Sam and he became very irritated at the thought that Dean didn't make it. That just wasn't possible.

"Cas, come on, where is he?"

"I am unaware of who Dean is, I'm sorry. You were alone on this hunt."

Sam stepped back in disbelief. "If you're playing around, that's enough. I need to find my brother!"

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "You don't have a brother, Sam."

There was a moment of silence before Castiel spoke again, this time much calmer. "Are you feeling alright?"

"What do you mean I don't have a brother? Of course I do, you know that, what are you trying to say to me?"

Sam's eyes were hollow and begging Castiel for any response other than the one that he gave. None of this made sense, this couldn't be happening.

"Sam, that's enough. There is no Dean Winchester."

 _No_ , Sam thought, _Castiel must be not right in the head_. Perhaps it was some angel mojo he had no knowledge about.

"Fine, okay," Sam held up his hands in protest. Obviously something happened to Castiel, and he would deal with it later. But right now he needed to know if Dean made it out of the lake safely. "You go back to the lake or whatever and I'll go find Dean."

"No, wait," Castiel followed behind him. "I can't let you go when you are like this. At least let me explain what happened."

Sam waited.

"You and I found a case of a djinn, so you decided to follow it. You followed it to a lake far outside of the city, when you got there you chased down the djinn into the lake. That's when it got weird - why would a djinn hide itself in a body of water? You went in after it, by the time I got there you were almost dead. It looked like you and the monster had gotten into a violent fight..."

Sam wasn't listening anymore. Grief had infiltrated the glimmer of hope in his mind, and the sound of the angels voice faded off into a distant noise.

No, Sam went to the lake with Dean. Dean went in first and got attacked, he could remember now. Dean and the djinn were fighting, Sam rushed in to help but something else pulled him under. The last word he heard was Dean calling out his name.

" _Sam!_ "


	2. Chapter 2

**January**

Sam worked on a ranch. After two years of endless searching for his brother, and finally being convinced that Dean never actually existed, he settled down. He traveled endlessly, tracked down a number of different djinns, hoping at least one could help him find the Djinn of the Lake, as he called it. But there was nothing, and he would always end up back at square one.

Sometimes Sam would lay awake at night, pinching his skin to try and wake up from whatever nightmare he was being held hostage in, and hope to wake up with the silhouette of Dean laying in the motel bed next to him. He sometimes pictured his brother beside him in the impala, pretending that it was Dean's voice instead of his own singing along to the Kansas album. When Sam went to buy food, he'd often forget that he was only buying for one, and come back to the motel with an extra burger in the bag only to remember that no one else was there to eat it.

The photos that he so vividly remembered Dean being in, had only empty spaces. His Dad's arm was only around his younger self. A picture of his mom holding Sam in her arms in the hospital, normally Dean was standing right beside the bed in a red T-shirt saying "I'm a BIG brother", and instead it just an empty white wall.

Sam never lost hope. Even after giving up searching and moving into a tiny shack on a secluded ranch, Sam still thought of Dean.

He took a job moving water pipes and feeding cattle on a ranch. There was no paycheck, the farmer was poor and desperate for help. In exchange he let Sam live in the beat up guest house, and told him to keep any extra money they made from selling chicken eggs.

The extra cash came in handy for food, but Sam had been saving a few of those dollars here and there to fix up the small living space. When he could finally afford to put new tiling on the roof, he did. Then saved up enough for a working refrigerator. Then some to fix up the insulation in the walls.

Once Christmas ended and the new year rolled around, Sam was content with the all of the fixes and additions. He never called it home, though.

It was a chilly day on the ranch when Joey, the rancher, asked Sam to help him move some pipes up in the north pasture. There hadn't been sun or rain for a few weeks, and the cows were running out grass to eat up there.

Sam didn't mind helping, in fact all of this physical labor had greatly helped him keep his mind off Dean for a second or two.

Though even after a tough days work, and Sam was finished all the daily tasks, the images of his brother would return in his mind.

 _Sammy..._

Sam could still hear Deans voice in his head, calling out to him as if he was suffering.

 _Sam, help me..._

"I'm trying," Sam would say out loud into the empty space, biting his tongue to keep his frustration in check.

And in the middle of January, under his own roof, Sam decided he needed to let go and carry on.

 **February**

Sam delivered eggs on Mondays and Fridays to local grocers, and took these times to cruise around the small off-the-grid areas. He met lots of people during his time spent there, but made few friends, as he mostly kept to himself. The folks at the local bar in the nearest town were probably the friendliest people Sam had ever known. They never asked questions about who he was, where he was from, or if he had a non existent brother living as a voice inside his head.

All of that stayed true, until he met Cordon. A bit shorter than Sam, the fresh-from-university blonde man came back home to live with his parents until he found a job in the city. Sam met him outside the bar, Cordon was drunk and attempting to unlock Sam's vehicle with a key.

A voice in the back of Sam's mind had told him to punch the younger guy into a pulp, but instead, Sam found himself watching in amusement.

"Can I help you?" Sam asks.

Cordon looks up and nearly stumbles backward in surprise. "Key ain't workin."

"Well, that's probably because this is the key," Sam holds up his keys.

"Aw, shit," the blonde laughs and blows a curl away from his eyes, obviously hammered out of his mind. "Your truck looks just like mine, sorry bud."

Sam looks around and spots an old beat up truck that looks just like his. "That's probably your truck over there."

"Right," Cordon slaps a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I woulda been out here all night tryna' get in your truck!"

Sam backs off slightly when the sting of whiskey hits his nostrils. "Do you need a lift home? I think you're too drunk to drive."

Cordon sways on his feet, and thinks for a moment. "That might be a good idea."

Sam hadn't had anything to drink that night, he sat at the bar talking to some locals about nothing in particular. Sometimes it felt good to just be around other people.

When he asked Cordon for directions, he was more than confused when they led to the ranch. _His_ ranch. As it turned out, Joey had a son he never mentioned before, who would also be living there and helping out until September.

Sam didn't mind the extra help, but Cordon wasn't the most useful person on a ranch. When it rained, Cordon would complain about working outside in the cold, saying he'll get hypothermia. When it came time to feed the goats, Cordon complained about the noise they made. When it came time to trim the donkeys hooves, the eldest one kicked Cordon in the chest. He had no injury, but stayed bed ridden for a week.

On top of all the things Sam hated about Cordon, the kid was always drunk, or hungover, soon to be drunk again.

One night when Sam had joined Joey and his new girlfriend Arlene for dinner, Cordon was drunk before the pork chops were even put on the barbecue.

"You ain't my momma," Cordon scowled at Arlene across the living room.

"For God sakes, Cordon," Joey yells, "You're a grown man. Stop acting like a child or I will send you away again."

"Y'all can't send me away, I have every right to be here!"

"Says who!"

Cordon huffed and placed a hand on his chest. "Ma wouldn't approve of your new whore, daddio." 

They fought for an hour before Sam had enough.

"Can I talk to you outside?" Sam asks quietly.

Cordon obediently followed Sam outside. He slammed the door behind him, and mumbled something about 'hating the shit outta this place'.

Sam riddled in anger. "What's your problem?"

"What's MY problem?" Cordon kicked over a stone. "I don't have a problem."

Cordon broke into a laugh, and steam shot from Sam's ears.

"I've been living here for almost a year," Sam said, and pointed a finger at Cordon's chest. "Joey has been nothing but good to me, lets me stay for free on his land, and in exchange I work for him. Do I complain? Not a chance. He's letting you stay for free in his own house, feeding you food from his fridge and hands you money from his pocket, and this is how you treat him?"

Cordon looked taken back by the anger in Sam's voice. "You don't know nothin."

"Yeah? Try me!"

"Who are you to talk to me this way, huh?" Cordon sneered. "Who are you, even? I'm his son! I have every right to be here! For all we know you could be some wanted serial killer hiding from the eyes of the city, huh? So why don't you keep your mouth shut, slacker, or you'll be sorry you done messed with me."

After that, Sam and Cordon never got along. Cordon would make crude jokes, try and push Sam's buttons to make him snap, but he never did. Sam kept his cool, and simply looked forward to the end of the day, away from the punk.

For some reason that Sam couldn't figure out, Cordon had an idea in his head that Sam was some sort of secret murderer who escaped from the detectives and took cover here. At first he thought perhaps Cordon had possibly seen him on a wanted list back from the St. Louis incident, or maybe he knew about the monsters of this world and knew Sam was an ex-hunter.

None of it fit together, though. Sam decided Cordon was just an idiot who hated everyone and needed someone to pick fights with.

At home one evening, Sam decided to sit and read quietly for a while. Just as he was settled and comfortable on the small bug eaten couch, there was a knock on the door.

When he opened it, Joey stood there with a concerned look on his face.

"Someone is here to see you," he said.

Sam swallowed. A flame erupted in his chest, it couldn't possibly be Dean, but he still hoped. "Who?"

"Dunno, he wouldn't tell me his name. He asked if a Sam was here, I didn't say you did at first until he told me he was an old friend, and..."

"And what, Joey?"

"And..." Joey scruffed his heel against the old wooden floor. "He's covered in blood."

Sounds like Dean.

But it couldn't be.

"I told him to wait there, I thought I'd tell ya first before I brought him over just in case he's not what he says he is, you know?"

Joey was kind. Old and barely able to keep it together, Joey had shown himself to be an honest man who worked all his life, lost his wife, and had a son who hated him because Joey was too soft and broken to fight back. He never asked Sam any questions, he probably knew that Sam wanted to stay away from the public eye, but it didn't bother him.

"Thanks Joey, where is he?"

Joey turned and pointed towards the cluster of trees, towards the small gate that guarded his ranch.

"He's waiting over there," Joey said. Before Sam could leave, he put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "If you want me to come with you-"

"No, it's fine. Thanks."

Joey nodded, and reached behind him and pulled a small rifle that was hidden in the small of his back. "Take this just in case. It isn't every day we get visitors covered in blood. He wasn't angry or nothin', but you never know."

Sam nodded and smiled appreciatively. He knew he wouldn't need it, but took it anyway just to reassure Joey.

Half way there, the gun was still clutched in his right hand.

Because you just never know.

"Hello?" Sam called. He felt anxiety creep up his spine.

It was incredibly dark in the trees, hidden from any moonlight that might have helped, but it only took a millisecond to recognize the angel sitting on a log off the side of the road.

Sam stops in his tracks. This wasn't possible - there's no way Cas could have actually tracked him here. Sam had discreetly drawn symbols around the entire place to make sure he was hidden from any angels or demons, or anything. He had even ripped up a large area of grass and cemented an Angel Ward in the ground before covering it up again.

Cas looked up. He was covered - head to toe - in dark blotches of blood and dirt.

"Cas," Sam whispered, and lowered Joey's gun. He checked around him to make sure no one was watching them."What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"You didn't cover all your tracks. Followed your trail to a small town and they recognized your photo. I can't seem to go any further than this log."

Angel wards working, then. "What do you want?"

"I had to see that you were safe. Sam, you left us with no warning, nothing. Why did you leave?"

Castiel eyes looked genuine, and Sam felt sorry. "I had to get away."

"Why?"

"I'm starting to forget," Sam said, then leaned against a fence post that was still wet from the rain. "I can't remember what his face looks like. I still hear him calling to me, but his voice sounds like my own now."

Castiel remained quiet.

"I guess I needed a change of scenery. It's difficult, no one believed me about Dean. I searched and found nothing. I went back to the lake and found nothing. I felt like I was going crazy, and everyone else made me believe it sometimes."

"You're not crazy, Sam."

"You don't believe that."

Castiel sighed. "I do. If what you say is true, then I want to help you. Perhaps something went wrong with the djinn and your... _brother_ , was lost somehow."

"What do you _want_ , Castiel?" Sam repeated. He had heard this all before. Castiel trying to convince him he isn't crazy, promising to help, only to corner him in a room with the others and try to help him. Help, meaning heal what wasn't broken. Cover up a symptom, and forget the actual problem.

"I need your help."

"With what?" The air dropped a degree and Sam shivered. "Whose blood is that?"

"Nobody important," Castiel nervously glanced around. "There's a war that's about to start."

"A war?" Sam knew nothing about a war. After sending Lucifer and Michael into the cage, everything went back to normal. There was no yellow eyed demon, Crowley disappeared, the angels and demons both calmed down, and Sam and Dean were back to hunting as normal.

"Hunters. Some of them showed up at Bobby's looking for you."

"Why? What did they want?"

"They came to kill you."


End file.
